


A Friend In Need (Is A Friend Indeed)

by srmarybadass



Category: FlashForward
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Fluff, Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Simon does something nice, Lloyd needs tea, and all involved are sleep-deprived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend In Need (Is A Friend Indeed)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and published to LJ in March 2010.  
> RIP Flashforward.

It was difficult, Lloyd found himself musing, to balance the roles of father and world-renowned scientist. He drank a lot of coffee, made a lot of phone calls, and gave up a social life outside of good-morning grunts as he passed other researchers on the way to the coffee machine. But he never missed a birthday, or a project presentation, and he managed, with a little bit of luck, to keep his lives separate.

 

He should have known the luck would run out eventually.

 

Dylan’s mother had called in a panic – something about a business deal going south very quickly, and could she please drop Dylan off with him a little earlier than scheduled? – at ten at night, when Lloyd had a report due to the board the next morning. He said yes, of course. How could he refuse? What he was going to do with Dylan when he arrived was beyond him. How he was going to finish the report was even further than that.

 

“Lloyd, who’s the pipsqueak?” Simon asked as the security guards escorted Dylan into the lounge near the lab.

 

“My son, Dylan,” Lloyd replied in a hurry, hustling forward to greet him. He dropped to one knee in front of the small boy and gave him an encouraging smile. “Hello, Dylan. How are you?”

 

Dylan didn’t answer.

 

“I’m really glad to see you. Are you feeling sleepy? It’s getting late.”

 

Dylan remained silent.

 

Simon looked over and saw Lloyd getting visibly more desperate. He could almost see the bags under his eyes getting bigger by the minute. All of the team was sleep-deprived, but Lloyd was one of the worst off, and as much as Simon was willing to write the report for him, it had to come from Lloyd. His paperwork was already turned in.

 

He rolled up his sleeves and reached into the pocket of his lab coat. A lighter, three quarters, a condom – whoops – a tube of chapstick, and a deck of cards he kept around for random inter-laboratory poker games. Excellent. He had everything he needed.

 

“Lloyd?”

 

The harried scientist whirled around. “Yes, Simon?”

 

“You go back to the lab and get your work done. I’ll keep an eye on Dylan.”

 

It was so nice to hear another British voice, Lloyd thought distantly, instead of the constant sea of harsh American accents. “Are you…”

 

“I’ve got this. You go get your work done.”

 

Lloyd looked at Dylan, and then back at Simon, and put his trust in the shorter man. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Come and get me if-”

 

“We’ll be fine.”

 

“I _mean_ it, if _anything-”_

 

“Go work, Lloyd.”

 

Lloyd did just that, albeit apprehensively. He got through three paragraphs before worry overwhelmed him and he ran back to the lounge, peeking in the door. He sighed with relief. Dylan was _smiling_ , of all things, as Simon’s slim and swift fingers flashed through the deck of cards, showing Dylan some trick he had picked up somewhere disreputable.

 

It was around eleven when the lab door swung open and Simon swanned in, graceful and haughty as ever. He was holding a mug of something steaming.

 

“Coffee?” Lloyd mumbled, the neurons in his brain firing at half the usual speed.

 

Simon snorted. “Of course not. It’s tea, good and proper. I made it myself.”

 

Lloyd tried to think of an occasion where Simon had made any food or drink and came up short. He took the mug gratefully and chugged it down. Good lord, Simon made it strong.

 

“How’s Dylan?” he asked between sips.

 

“I suspect he’ll be pulling coins and other assorted objects out from behind your ear for the next week or two, but other than that, he’s fine.”

 

Lloyd put the mug down. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s nothing.” Simon started to leave, but Lloyd grabbed his hand to stop his path. He looked him dead in the eye.

 

“I mean it. Thank you.”

 

“And I meant what I said. It’s nothing. I rather like the little lad.”

 

Lloyd almost laughed at that. Simon didn’t _like_ anyone.

 

“Get back to work,” Simon said almost soothingly. “The sooner you finish, the sooner we can all get home.”

 

“Right, then,” Lloyd mumbled as Simon walked out. Simon never really _walked_ , Lloyd noted. He really _did_ tend to strut.

 

He realized five minutes later that he had been staring into thin air and, following a hunch, quickly followed his partner down the hallway and looked into the lounge again.

 

His son was laughing this time, and Simon was making shadow puppets on the wall, complete with ridiculous voices. Lloyd watched for a minute, a tired happiness growing inside his chest, before he went back to the lab.

 

He finished at midnight and saved it to the desktop happily. Exhausted, he stumbled down the quiet hall to the lounge. When he got in, he stopped short at the scene.

 

Simon was slumped across half of the couch, Dylan leaning on him. Both were fast asleep. Lloyd smiled and tiptoed – as much as a man of his stature could tiptoe – over to them. He brushed Dylan’s hair out of his eyes tenderly and grinned down at his son, his wonderful boy. He paused, and then repeated the motion with Simon, ruffling through the fuzz. Simon harrumphed in his sleep and craned his neck up to Lloyd, who chuckled.

 

He waited a few more minutes before waking them up.


End file.
